


In Our Veins

by SweetAvidyaJones



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAvidyaJones/pseuds/SweetAvidyaJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katara struggles to cope with her abilities as a bloodbender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was late.

Aang woke, startled into groggy alertness. It took him a moment to remember where they were: the peninsula south of Gao Ling, on the beach. The fire was diminished to smoldering coals, the stars overhead bright against the black of the night sky.

They were flying South from Ba Sing Se - back to the Southern Water Tribe - and had stopped here for the night to camp. The wind blowing off of the ocean was cool and smelled like seaweed. Aang sat up and looked around. Sokka and Suki slept on the other side of the fire. Toph was inside her tent of earth - he could hear her snoring.

Katara was missing.

That was what woke him. Katara had been curled up next to him and must have gotten up.

Aang had only just adjusted to sleeping with Katara. It was an honest accident the first time. They both dozed off in the common area of the house while going through a stack of neglected correspondence. It was after everyone else had gone to bed and no one seemed to catch on the next day. After that, they just kept doing it, accidentally-on-purpose falling asleep on the couch together. Aang was an early riser, (he was usually already milling about in the kitchen by the time everyone else woke up, anyway) so from the outside, nothing terribly out of the ordinary appeared to be happening. It was a week before they finally made their way to Katara's room together. They were shy and giggling the first night, then neither of those things the next. No one had addressed any of this out loud. He wasn't sure how much Sokka actually knew and how much he only suspected.

Aang stood and looked around, spotting Katara's footprints in the sand and following them.

She sat a few yards away, looking out over the ocean. Her shoulders tensed as he approached but she didn't acknowledge him. He sat down next to her, taking in the view.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded silently, hugging herself.

It was cool here, this close to the water. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and wondered if he had done something wrong.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, having no idea what 'it' was but knowing Katara would not volunteer more information without prompting.

"No," she said, and her voice was so quiet he wasn't sure she'd spoken for a moment, "I just need to be alone, if you don't mind."

"Oh." He ran his hand nervously over his head, "Can I…can I bring you anything or…I mean, it's pretty chilly over here."

She sighed and shook her head, "I'm okay."

"Okay," he echoed. Neither of them sounded convinced. He stood and when she didn't say anything further, he walked away.

Maybe she regretted that they'd started sleeping together? He wasn't totally clear on current Water Tribe social conventions where this sort of thing was concerned, though he guessed her father would not approve. Admittedly, he'd also avoided asking, somewhat selfishly, afraid of derailing this new arrangement. Maybe she was nervous about visiting home tomorrow?

He returned to his spot by the fire, bending it gently back to life. He waited up for her for a while but eventually dozed off again. When he woke at dawn she was curled up within arm's reach of him.

Katara was obviously tired the following day but everything else seemed normal. She was affectionate and in high spirits. She and Sokka were both delighted to be home, where Pakku and the other transplanted waterbenders had done a remarkable amount of work on reconstruction since the end of the war. Katara assisted whenever she could but it had been months since their last visit. The whole group of them were given an excited tour of the new buildings by Hakoda, who seemed happier and more relaxed than Aang had ever seen him. The South Pole was, comparatively, a cheerful hive of activity now. It felt renewed.

That afternoon, shortly after lunch, Katara pulled him aside.

"My dad told me he has a bed set up for me at his place," she said.

"Ah," he replied in understanding.

She grinned mischievously, "You're blushing," she teased, pinching his arm.

His laugh was soft and embarrassed and he looked away, trying to act casual and failing, "Yeah, well." She slid her arms around his waist and he returned her embrace so she could lean into him.

"I suppose they'll set you up in the new diplomat guest house they built," she said, her voice quiet to avoid being overheard. She kissed him lightly. "I wish I could stay with you," she whispered. A little rush of excitement ran through him and he kissed her again.

"Me, too," he whispered back, relieved that he hadn't totally misread her the night before.

She smiled up at him. "I don't care what Sokka thinks but I'm not exactly ready to have this conversation with my dad."

He squeezed her tighter. "I can't say I blame you." She buried her face in his neck, her cold nose against his skin.

"I heard you two are meeting later. What for?"

"Uh," his face reddened further and he was glad she couldn't see, "Zuko has a message for him. Some proposal about cross cultural military training?" This wasn't strictly a lie - Zuko _had_ sent the message - but he'd originally asked Sokka to deliver it. He suspected Sokka knew why he'd volunteered to do it, instead, but had not pressed him for details.

The betrothal necklace felt heavy in this pocket. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he wondered whether Hakoda would give his blessing. It had been Aang's intention to ask as soon as he came of age, but the timing never seemed right. He spent more than a year second guessing himself and stumbling through rehearsed conversations before finally working up the courage.

Snow crunched behind them.

"Hey, you two," Toph called, "Someone needs to take over hanging out with the blind girl."

They turned to see Toph and Sokka approaching, her arm hooked through his.

"Hey, I'm perfectly content to hang out with you," Sokka said, "You're the one who doesn't want to go to an engineering meeting."

Toph rolled her eyes and Katara grinned.

"I'm actually supposed to go check in with Ahnah about her schedule tomorrow," she said, referring to the master Healer who had recently relocated to the South. She kissed Aang on the cheek, "I need to see if she has time to squeeze me in for some training and then I'm shadowing her for a while. Speaking of which, I better go. It's getting late. I'll see you guys at dinner." Katara jogged off, in the direction of the healers' hut.

"I'll keep you company, Toph," Aang said. "We're both staying at the guest house, anyway." He reached out for her. As soon as their fingers made contact, Toph released Sokka. Hands free, he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

"Yes," Sokka said pointedly, glaring in Aang's direction, "enjoy your evening at the _guest house_." He turned and went toward the central building while Aang grimaced at his retreating back. He gave a low groan of embarrassment and Toph let out a bark of laughter.

"Come on, Twinkletoes, what do you expect? You're sleeping with his sister."

Aang bristled a bit at this, "We're not _doing_ anything!"

"Ohh, try again. A little more convincing this time."

His face burned scarlet. "We're not doing what he _thinks_ we're doing," he amended in a mumble.

Toph frowned, "Don't you have some sort of rule about lying?"

"It's okay if my life is in danger," he muttered. She chuckled.

"He keeps trying to get me to rat you two out." For a moment, her hand tightened around his, a flash of affectionate reassurance he wasn't even sure she was aware she'd given. "He'll let up once you're engaged."

He threw his free hand upward in agitation.

"That's the other thing! What if Hakoda won't give his blessing? And what if Katara says no?"

"Neither of those things are going to happen. Come on. Hakoda's going to tell the _Avatar_ he's not good enough for his daughter? And Katara isn't going to say no." This statement was so matter of fact Aang was unable to come up with a rebuttal. Toph shuffled her feet and swiped at her nose.

"I hate coming here," she confided, "It's cold and dark. Let's go find a fire to sit next to."

xXx

It was a couple of months before Aang realized what was going on.

They were at the Southern Air Temple. The planned restoration was not in full swing yet. Fortunately, enough progress had been made that the whole group could stay there without it feeling quite so much like a camping excursion. Again, they had been in Ba Sing Se, this time for an especially tense week of meetings about a military of the United Republic, which left them all fried and exhausted. Aang, in particular, was uncharacteristically touchy, the whole topic having made him much more uncomfortable than he'd anticipated. It was Zuko who made the suggestion they go the temple for a few days, before making the journey back to the Fire Nation. Still standing empty when it wasn't being trooped through by architects and historians and master earthbenders, there was plenty of room for them to spread out and have some privacy, which they were all sorely in need of. It seemed important, Zuko said, to have a tangible reminder of why they were doing this. The fact that it was practically impossible for someone to reach them unannounced was also an obvious selling point.

Again, Aang woke and realized Katara was missing. Her side of the bed was not cold yet. He tugged his pants on and ventured out into the hallway to find her.

They were in a relatively isolated portion of the Temple. In the time before the war, the room he and Katara were now staying in had served as a small dormitory for senior students. It was high up and at the rear of the temple, quiet and well suited to silent contemplation and study but with balconies and walkways open to the air.

When Aang opened the door, he saw Katara sitting on one such balcony, at the end of the hall. As he approached, the view she looked out on opened up to him and he could see her framed in the light of the full moon. He stopped in his tracks, staring, realization hitting him. He sighed sadly before continuing on.

Katara knew he was coming before she heard him, could feel the swirling throb of his pulse. Aang crouched beside her, still slightly behind, and she knew he was trying to give her some space. She'd brought a blanket with her and wrapped it around her waist before she sat down, shielding her from the cool stone floor. She wore just enough clothing to preserve her modesty in case anyone else came by but her arms were bare.

"Hi," he said gently.

"Hi," she responded. She sounded tired. A moment passed in silence. There was the sound of an owlvulture in the distance, its' low, gravelly hoots carried on the wind.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his fingertips brushing her arm. She sighed.

"I'll be okay out here," she assured him. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled weakly, "I even brought a blanket."

"I see that," he leaned forward, bowing his head. Aang closed his eyes and let himself feel how tired he was - truly tired, down to his bones - before drawing a deep breath and letting it out through his nose.

"You've been doing this every full moon," he said, "And I didn't know it until we started sleeping together. And even then I didn't realize why until just now. Because I am an idiot."

She laughed a little, despite herself, reaching over and patting him on the head in distracted reassurance, "I still love you."

He smiled sadly and sat back on his heels, elbows on his knees. He cocked his head to look at the sky with her. Katara closed her eyes, her face tipped slightly upward, bathed in blue-white moonlight.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She tugged the blanket up around her shoulders and tucked her chin into her chest with a shrug. Tears dripped off of the end of her nose. Aang reached out but stopped himself, running his fingers across his scalp, instead.

Silence yawned into the space around them. The mountains around them were beautiful, the spires of stone and greenery vanishing down into fog that was silver in the moonlight. Sometimes, when they were here and it was late at night, Katara could imagine that the temple was still full of people, _his_ people. Although she had never known them, she thought the place still _felt_ like them. It was as if generations of their effort and presence had soaked into the walls. When she tried to describe this quality to people who had never been to the temple, words always failed her. It came across as haunting and sad. It _was_ sad, but it was also inspiring, in a solemn sort of way. It felt like a testament to them, this vibration of noble tranquility that pervaded the halls even after more than one hundred years, even though they were so often empty.

A few heartbeats passed with no words before Aang broke the silence.

"Katara, please, talk to me."

She flicked her tears away and scooted around to face him fully. Hoping to keep the unsteadiness out of her voice, she took a shaky breath and blew it out.

"What was it like when you took Ozai's bending away?" she asked. She expected some confusion about this line of questioning but Aang answered without hesitation.

"Terrifying, at first," he said. He looked up toward the stars before his eyes met hers again, "Mostly I was just relieved it was over."

She nodded, "Did you feel powerful?"

"I mean…" he cleared his throat, "Yeah, I guess. Yeah."

"Did…" she pulled the blanket tighter around herself, avoiding his eyes, "Did you enjoy it?"

His lips parted as if he were about to speak but instead he drew in a deep breath, letting himself linger in the flash of fear and understanding at what she was asking. He remembered Hama laughing as Katara wept and how helpless and angry he'd felt that night. They had never really discussed it after that, not in any meaningful way. For the most part, they avoided the topic of bloodbending entirely. He swallowed.

"No," he answered, and it sounded like an apology.

She nodded without looking at him and he wished he knew what to say.

"Hey," he said gently, ducking his head to try to catch her eye, "Katara. You know you can tell me anything."

She drew in on herself, away from him, and cleared her throat.

"Do you remember when Zuko and I went to find the man who killed my mother?" she asked, the question wobbling a little as it came out.

Aang nodded, feeling apprehension creep into his chest.

"We found this ship with this man - not the man we were looking for, just some other Fire Nation soldier. I never told you, but I used bloodbending on him to get him to talk." Her eyes darted up toward his and then away, "I felt so…so righteous and focused that night. It was like I could finally unleash this lifetime of anger and I could do it in a way that was so personal and humiliating. Like he deserved it." She pressed her lips together and sighed before looking up at him again. There was sadness in his eyes.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" he asked. As she ran her fingers nervously through her hair, she realized her hands were shaking. She shrugged and the gesture felt contrived. Her chin trembled a little, and she bit the inside of her lip in stubborn defiance to stop it.

"You were proud of me that day," she explained, her voice low and hesitant, "I was worried you would be disappointed in me. That you might - " she licked her lips, " - that it might change how you felt about me."

Aang considered this in silence. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Folding his legs, he seated himself on the floor and took a deep breath.

"I knew I was saving this for the right moment," he mused, looking down at the object cradled in his cupped hands, "I just wasn't sure what it was going to be." He uncurled his fingers to hold it out to her, palms up.

Katara took it. It was a lidded stone box, small and delicate. She held her breath as she opened it, lifting the lid with her fingertips to see the betrothal necklace inside. Aang laid his hands on her knees and she looked into his eyes again.

"I want to be with you for the rest of my life," he said, "For everything. For nights like this."

She nodded, letting the tears spill out and run down her cheeks. She put the lid back on the box and leaned forward to slide her arms around his neck. "Okay," she whispered, "Yes."

He nodded too, pulling her into his lap. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, leaning heavily against him. They sat there in silence for a while. Katara could feel the steady beat of Aang's pulse and it was like waves. For the first time, her bloodbending didn't make her feel like an invader in someone else's body.

"I'm so tired," she murmured.

"I know," he whispered back.


	2. Chapter 2

Katara usually loved camping.

She loved the intimacy of sharing a tent with Aang, just the two of them nestled in a transient sanctuary that would be gone the next day. She loved the privacy and the closeness. Usually.

Wide awake, she stared at the ceiling, at the flickering shadows produced by the light of the solitary candle, which she never bothered to put out. Aang lay beside her, having rolled away from her onto his back more than an hour ago.

Katara shifted onto her side to look at him, at the stubble darkening his jaw, his slightly parted lips, his chest rising and falling. She could feel his heart beating. The sensation pressed like a headache at the edges of her awareness, impossible to ignore. She saw the subtle skip of his pulse beneath the skin on his throat.

It occurred to her how easy it would be to kill him right now and she was revolted. Fragility wasn't a quality she liked to associate with Aang.

Her bending had always been a fundamental part of who she was and on these nights, she was forced to acknowledge it had been warped in some way. Something inside her felt wrong. Before the end of the war they were running, constantly. It was a difficult time but at least all of it served as a distraction. There was so much urgency about so many other things, and so often a sense of impending crisis was looming over them.

The threat of physical danger was largely supplanted by the expectations of politics now. It weighed down on all of them, along with the scrutiny of living in the public eye. Katara felt worn out often and on full moon nights she was needled with anxiety and slept poorly or not at all. In the first couple of years after she learned to bloodbend, it had been straightforward. She would find some way to put some distance between herself and others. Sometimes she would drug herself to sleep with herbs, and later with rice wine. None of this worked particularly well.

When she and Aang started sleeping together, she could no longer creep off unacknowledged. The first time she left him alone, he'd been confused. But when everything seemed normal the next day, they'd dealt with it in true Aang and Katara fashion: he avoided the subject and she pretended nothing had happened.

Eventually, Aang figured out what was really going on but still felt just as ill-equipped to deal with it. He gave her space because he didn't know what else to do. They tried to be home for these nights. It was happenstance and poor scheduling that stranded them on the beach. When they were home, in their apartment in Ba Sing Se, she could work late and sometimes slept on the couch. Sometimes she went to the garden on the top of the building. She would water plants and weed, or simply sit on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. She felt sad and guilty, angry and uncomfortable and tired. The night seemed to drag away little pieces of her, steadily and mercilessly, and what remained was fragile and scattered, like a bird skeleton picked clean by ants.

And then the next morning, it would be over. She would be relieved and happy. Normal. And Aang never wanted to upset her by bringing it up, so he remained silent. He did once encourage her to find some way to channel the energy but she hesitated.

Because he'd seen her bloodbend before, she'd also discussed this in vague terms with Zuko, who was sympathetic and caught on immediately. He did some training with her on harnessing her chi. It was much more introspective than what she'd learned in relation to waterbending and healing. Zuko urged her to do further training with Aang, since as the only energybender in centuries he would surely have invaluable perspective. But she hadn't.

She knew the best way - the surest way - to gain Aang's insight: teach him bloodbending. Sometimes she wanted to and hated herself for it. The thought of Aang being able to bloodbend in the Avatar State was terrifying and fear closed around her like a fist when she imagined it.

She left the tent.

Outside, the air was cool and humid, blowing across the tops of waves. The moon shone down on the water and it was like the creatures inside were illuminated by it. Fish, tiny crabs, larger animals further away. She dug her toes into the cool sand, stared at the moon. She thought of Yue, then Sokka, then her father. Her mind felt like it was sliding down a hill and scrambling to find something to grab onto, to slow its' descent.

She started walking because she wasn't sure what else to do. There was a dune near their camp and she climbed it and sat down.

She thought of Hama.

Katara clenched fistfuls of sand.

xXx

When it became clear they were too tired to make the full trip back to Ba Sing Se from the Fire Nation, Aang's mind turned immediately to making Katara as comfortable as possible. They found a spot to camp that seemed private. Appa was on a grassy hill about a mile away. They sparred in the ocean, much longer than normal, until they were both exhausted. They made a simple dinner from supplies they carried in their shared bag of travel gear and sat next to the fire to eat. Neither of them spoke much. Aang bent a tent and they laid down blankets and hung another at the mouth of the tent to block out the intrusive moonlight. Early, before night had even fallen completely, they crawled inside. Both of them were tired and Aang fell asleep much more suddenly than he expected he might.

He woke and wondered how long he had been asleep. He opened his eyes as he reached for Katara and found her missing. With a soft curse under his breath, he groped around the tent for his pants.

They shouldn't have stopped. They should have gone home.

He exited the tent. A breeze blew off of the water toward the east and smelled of salt and seaweed. The moon was full and bright and bathed the beach in low light. There were footprints in the sand, leading up onto a dune nearby. He could see Katara sitting at the top, looking up at the night sky.

Aang seated himself in the soft sand beside her, legs folded and shoulders hunched.

"Hi, sweetie," he said, his voice still rough and low from sleep.

"Hi," she murmured.

They didn't speak for a while. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a bit fuzzy. The moon was so bright and the white noise of the ocean was a comfort. In any other context this might have been romantic.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Katara sighed. It had been more than five years since meeting Hama, yet they'd talked about this surprisingly little. So little, in fact, that _it_ and _this_ was still how they elected to frame the conversation. She frowned.

"If you don't want to talk about it, do you mind if I do?" he asked.

He sounded tired and she felt guilty.

"I don't mind," she replied, her voice soft. He turned to face her but she didn't look at him.

"I wish you wouldn't isolate yourself like this," he said, barely above a whisper. "It feels like you're running away and I've never known you to run away from anything."

She sighed. "It's just hard," she mumbled, "It's like being a kid all over again, you know? I was the only waterbender in the South and I didn't have any guidance. I've learned so much…it seems like I should be able to deal with this. I should be better at this." She glanced over at him.

"Is it awful that I kind of wish I could talk to her right now?" Katara whispered. He didn't have to ask who she meant.

"No," Aang said, gently, "It's not awful to admit you feel lonely."

She blushed, the awkwardness of sudden realization striking her, "I shouldn't be complaining about this to _you_ ," she breathed, embarrassed.

"You're not complaining," he reassured her, "You're having a hard time with something and you're talking about it with someone who understands." His fingertips brushed her knee and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye again. "You're talking to your husband about your feelings. That's not something you should ever apologize for."

Her heart still skipped a beat when he said the word 'husband'. They'd been married a month and she thought she would never get tired of hearing it. Giddy impatience permeated their engagement and kept it so short that by the time word spread about it, the news of their wedding was following behind.

"I wish you would let me help you with this," he said.

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Aang, this isn't something I can just…just _meditate_ away, or - "

He shook his head, "I wouldn't expect you to. I think - " he licked his lips and he swallowed, hesitating, "I think you need to practice."

Katara paled, "No. I don't want to practice bloodbending. I don't want to bloodbend at all."

He held his open hands out toward her, imploring her, "Sweetie, you can't keep doing this. I mean, pretty clearly it isn't working. I thought giving you space was best but I can't sit by and watch you beat yourself up anymore." When she didn't respond, he went on, "You got your start waterbending on your own. How did you do that?"

Still stunned by his suggestion, she answered without thinking, "Just kind of…sat by the water and felt it, I guess."

Aang shrugged, "Okay. Let's do that."

"What are you suggesting exactly?" she asked warily.

"Use me," he said.

She balked and shook her head. "Aang," she whispered, "I couldn't do that to - "

He interrupted her, "You're not going to be _doing_ anything to me. We'll just sit together and you can see how it feels to focus on it." Knowing she was not entirely convinced, he added, "If it's too much I'll bend you your own tent, wherever you want."

She hugged herself. He was so earnest but the gratitude she felt for it was almost immediately tempered by doubt. Sand still stuck to her sweating palms and the grit scraped her bare arms. For as much trepidation as she had about this, she _wanted_ his help, his advice. Not just because she loved and trusted him, but because he was a talented bender. She'd thought about asking for his help so many times and she couldn't bring herself to turn him away when he was directly offering it.

"Okay," she whispered.

xXx

The flickering light of the candle was just enough to see by in the tent.

Katara asked Aang to lie down and knelt beside him, as she did when doing healing work. She'd told him to take his pants off, so he lay in front of her in his sparring trunks. She sometimes requested this for healing sessions but not always. Her hands were palms up and still on her thighs. Harmless.

He was like a pulsating entity, or the spirit lights in the sky over her village. She could feel his blood reach the edges of his circulatory system, again and again. His eyes were closed.

It was like feeling his chi but not quite like it. This felt heavier and darker. She held her open hand over his chest and felt his heart beating. Blood flowed through the muscular organ beneath her hand, swishing through the valves, being pulled in and squeezed out, over and over. She realized she was holding her breath and let out a shaky sigh.

His heart beat. Somewhere there was a moment of tension and pressure, then retreat. She extended her other hand and let them roam side to side a bit, further up and down on both sides. Her brow furrowed.

"Can you turn over?" she murmured.

As he rolled over he asked, "Where do you want me to put my arms?"

"At your sides, please."

After a moment she let her fingertips rest directly on his scar. She probed the edges gently.

"Can you feel this?"

"Yeah."

She nodded and let her fingertips move slowly toward the center of the old wound. The tension felt hotter and closer, tighter. She licked her lips and stroked the center of the scar with the lightest touch she could manage, fingertips just barely brushing the unnaturally smooth skin.

"You can't feel this, can you?"

"No," he replied, even though they both knew she already knew the answer.

Katara had done countless healing sessions on Aang's back, most of them when the initial injury occurred and while he was unconscious. Were she able to go back in time, with her abilities honed to the level they were today, she thought she could have done a better job. Most of what she knew about treating burns she'd learned working on Aang in those weeks, but she'd also done research and training with other healers later, when he'd had difficulties with the scar as it matured and he grew. There was still some lingering nerve damage that she'd always thought could only have been repaired when the wound was still open and raw.

She let her hands rest in her lap. He opened his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, rising up onto his forearms to look at her.

She hesitated, "I feel like maybe if I understood this a little better - " she let her hand hover over the scar again, let herself feel the blood circulating through the area. " - maybe I could strengthen the tissue a little more. Repair the last of the nerve damage. Maybe."

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and she looked down at the blanket beneath them.

"I never thought about using bloodbending for healing. Could I - " she cut herself off, shaking her head.

"What?" he pressed.

She looked into his eyes again, "Next month, if we're at home, could I map your circulatory system, maybe?"

He nodded, relief evident in his expression, "Yeah, if that's what you want to do."

A shy smile crept across her lips. She bent to kiss him. The tempo of his heart increased, just a bit. He responded carefully but after a moment, finally reached up with one hand to cup her cheek. It felt like when she held water on her skin, her awareness coursing through him. Down from his hand, from his lips and tongue, through the rest of his body and back. She found herself wanting to be closer to him and knew it showed in the insistence of her kiss. Desire seemed to have crept up on her, it was so abrupt. She was almost surprised at herself when she sat up to open her tunic. He sat up, too. She hadn't put her bindings or leggings back on to leave the tent and Aang watched as she set her clothing aside. Goosebumps stood out on her bare chest.

A tacit agreement had developed between them. They had never had sex on a full moon night. There was never really much reason to discuss it, anyway, since they were not usually in bed together. She dragged her fingertips down his shoulder, his arm. She leaned into him to murmur into his ear.

"Will you kiss me?" she asked.

His right hand grazed her breast almost absently, his thumb sweeping across her nipple. His eyes moved away from hers. She could feel his gaze as if he were touching her, down across her mouth, her throat, her breasts. He swallowed, hesitating, considering. Finally, he bent down, leaning in so his lips brushed her jaw, toward her ear.

"Stand up," he whispered.

There was just enough room and if Katara had not known better she would have suspected he planned this. She stood and Aang rose to his knees to kiss her stomach, then moved further down. She draped her leg over his shoulder to give him better access and as soon as his open mouth pressed against the apex of her thighs she moaned, leaning down and laying a hand on his shoulder to support herself. He dragged his tongue across her skin, dipped it inside her.

Her own ragged breaths seemed loud in the tiny space. She licked her lips and straightened, laid her fingertips on top of his head. She let them drift down to his temple, felt his pulse. Time felt like it should have slowed but couldn't, the beats counting every torturous second that brought her closer to orgasm. The blood in his body flowed in a continuous circuit, and she felt his heart stutter when she gasped his name as she climaxed. She wondered if he always felt that way when she said his name in bed.

His hand was on her hip, steadying her, and she laid her own over it, pushing it around to her inner thigh. This was a signal Aang knew well and without any hesitation, he slid his middle finger inside her.

Katara's awareness was so tangled up inside of Aang, she had the disorienting sensation that she was penetrating herself and her breath caught in her throat. Aang froze and looked up at her, though they couldn't see each other well in the low light. He knelt in her shadow, the flame flickering behind her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she murmured, "It's just…different."

"I can stop," he offered.

"Please don't," she managed.

He seemed to be considering this and she was starting to wonder whether he was going to pull away completely when his tongue slid against her again. She closed her eyes for a moment and caught his wrist, stopping the movement of his hand. He kissed her thigh and pulled away, sitting back on his heels, waiting, looking up at her.

"I want to have sex," she said, a little shyly.

"We _are_ having sex," he responded, and she felt relieved to hear a touch of teasing in his voice, as if this were any other night. She let out a laugh that was hesitant and self conscious before releasing his wrist. She brushed her fingertips across the top of his head.

"You know what I mean."

He stroked her hip gently, "I'm perfectly content to keep doing this."

"In case you'd forgotten," she drawled, "I can feel where your blood is flowing."

"Then it should be obvious to you how much I'm enjoying myself." he countered. He withdrew his hand, sitting back as she knelt to kiss him.

"I want you," she whispered and straddled his lap.

They were rough, sometimes. They'd been sparring together long enough to know each other's limits. She would score red, stinging scrapes on his back with her nails and he smudged dusky blotches on her neck with his mouth, his teeth. There were nights they left each other tender and exhausted, and more than anything that was what she wanted now. She gripped his shoulders, letting her nails bite into his skin, whether in promise or as a warning she wasn't sure. She kissed him, pressed her mouth to his desperately. She could still taste herself lingering on his lips when she slid her tongue against his.

His answering kiss was soft and pliant and frustration crept into her chest. It came out of her in a whimper into his mouth that she was unable to stop. She wanted him on top of her, wanted his weight pressed between her legs and the strength of his hands on her. She felt the swell of blood in his groin when she shifted on his lap and she let out a helpless moan.

"Aang," she whispered, "Please."

She could see the bob of his throat as he swallowed roughly and she knew she didn't need to explain.

"Please," she repeated. He let his hands rest on her hips, waiting.

"I told you to use me," he replied, his voice low.

"This isn't about bloodbending any more," she pleaded.

He wet his lips with his tongue, ran one of his hands up along her ribs, onto her back.

"Isn't it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Katara closed her eyes. She took a deep breath to steady herself and let her touch meander down, barely brushing his skin. She could feel the network of his circulatory system as her palms skimmed across his chest, down his sides. Everything inside him called out to her, tugged at her. She pressed her forehead to his and, realizing he was sweating, pulled away, holding her breath.

"Am I hurting you?" she whispered. He shook his head, fingers pressing against her back, bringing her close again.

"No. It's like little ripples. It's not painful."

She pressed her fingers to the side of his neck where she could feel his pulse from the outside, as if confirming it. His breathing was slow and even. Calm. She realized what a contrast this was to her own, unsteady and a little shaky. He laid his hand over hers and turned his face to kiss her palm. Even in the low light she could see the blush staining his cheek.

"I can feel _you_ ," he said, "Inside me."

She cupped his face to look into his eyes.

"You'll tell me if - " she hesitated and he nodded.

Katara rose up on her knees to reach between them, to tug his shorts down and touch him. She sank down onto him, breathing out a low sigh.

Though the sensation was familiar by now, she never really appreciated how vulnerable they were both making themselves. The meeting of their bodies, of muscle over bone, beneath skin suffused with blood and damp with sweat. This sensitive part of him inside her, the sweet echo of an ache in the gentle stretch of her body, accommodating him. She moaned, the sound low and relieved and his heart beat faster. Hers followed his and the pace of her breaths picked up, too. She closed her eyes, feeling almost dizzy. Katara rocked against him, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders.

He gripped her hips, holding her in place. She opened her eyes, looking into his, trying to catch her breath.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, his brow furrowed. She leaned in to kiss him and he laid his hand on her chest to hold her back, a slight frown marring his face. "I don't think we should do this," he murmured.

Her chest was tight and she could feel his resolve wavering. The heat of embarrassment crept into her face. Her hands were shaking and she pulled them away from him. "Why not?" she asked. The sting of his rejection raised a lump in her throat and she slid off of his lap, turning her head, not wanting him to see her disappointment.

"I just want tonight to feel _normal_ ," she mumbled.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. You seem really overwhelmed right now and I'm not going to risk - " his fingers trailed down her arm, "I'll make it up to you," he promised.

She shrugged off his touch, brows knit together.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. He rubbed his palm back and forth across his scalp before he leaned back on his hands. "This was a bad idea. I didn't mean to upset you."

She frowned and gave a single shake of her head, "No, you're trying to help. And you're right. I need to learn how to deal with this or I'm - " she stopped, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "This is just…really confusing for me," she explained. Her vision clouded with tears. She tried to blink them away but only succeeded in spilling them out onto her lashes. With a scoff of irritation, she wiped at her eyes. She met his gaze again but then looked away immediately. He gestured to her.

"Come here," he said gently, reaching for her.

She moved closer to him and they laid down together, Aang curled around her, his chest to her back. He put out the candle with a gesture and darkness settled over them both.

They were close to the ocean. She remembered as a child, laying bundled in furs at night, feeling the movement of the water beneath the village, the constancy of it soothing her. The rolling of the nearby waves, the expansiveness and the power, was a comfort. She knew Aang could feel it, too. Water always felt like an extension of herself and the way the tide echoed inside him, in his pulse and his steady breaths, sent a little tremor through her.

"What are you feeling right now?" he whispered.

Her voice was heavy, "It feels like you're a part of me."

For the first time that night, he held his breath. He buried his face in her hair.

"It must be like you're standing in the ocean wherever you go on full moon nights," he offered. "It must feel endless, like you extend all over the world."

She gave a weak smile against her tears, "It sounds almost beautiful when you describe it that way."

"Really?" he murmured, "I think it sounds terrifying."

Her chin trembled as her smile slipped away and she nodded.

"Do you ever feel like a freak?" she whispered. His heartbeat quickened, arm tightening around her. She twined her fingers in his.

"Sometimes," he murmured. She squeezed his hand.

"You're not," she said, conviction strengthening her voice despite the tears welling in her eyes.

"I know," he replied, almost an apology. "Neither are you."

The ocean felt so different when it was not trapped under ice. Katara's awareness flowed out, onto the open water, stretching to where it met the horizon, the water and the sky.

"I know," she echoed.

She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of him lull her into sleep.


End file.
